


sleeping in the space next to me

by ignitethestars



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson's a dork, F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, May loves it, Morning Kisses, Sharing a Bed, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitethestars/pseuds/ignitethestars
Summary: May and Coulson take a step forward in their relationship.





	sleeping in the space next to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hanorganaas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanorganaas/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Nor! I'm so, so happy to be able to call someone as cool and talented and kind as you a friend. I'm so glad we got the chance to meet, and I look forward to another year of friendship and fanfiction with you! Lots of love!

When he opens his eyes, he finds that he is in a unfamiliar bed.

 

_ No, that's not right _ , Coulson thinks, sitting up. The bed and the room around it _ is _ familiar, familiar in a way that irritates him because he should know where he is, but his consciousness hasn't caught up, yet.

 

At last, details and memories of the room comes flooding back to him, and he smiles softly as he thinks about the room’s owner.

 

Coulson turns to his side, expecting to see someone in the bed beside him, but instead finds it empty.

 

His shoulders slump with disappointment and he slowly extracts himself from the many sheets and blankets that are piled on top of him. 

 

His bare feet hit the soft, carpeted floor in time for the bedroom door to slide open with a squeak, the wheels on the door catching on the carpet. In the end, the sliding track door is no match for the woman on the other side of it.

 

Coulson can't stop the dorky smile that passes over his face as he drinks in the sight of May, her long dark hair loose and poofy around her shoulders from...well, from the night before.

 

“I wondered if you were ever going to get up.” May says dryly, moving to hand him a cup of steaming coffee. In her other hand is a cup of tea for herself.

 

It's so domestic that it makes Coulson wonder if he's still in prison in space, making up a false reality to keep himself busy.

 

But when May leans forward to brush her lips against his, he knows that this is real. No matter how unbelievable it was.

 

May pulls away with an unimpressed look, “Your breath smells.”

 

Coulson gives an innocent shrug, “Haven't brushed yet.”

 

“You need to.” May says, sitting back down on the bed with her tablet. 

 

“Yes ma'am,” Coulson replies, heading to the adjoining bathroom. His reflection stares back at him as he quickly brushes (even though he's not sure when May got a second toothbrush).

 

“We still have a meeting with the Director today?” he asks once he's spat out the minty tooth paste and rinsed his mouth.

 

“We do.” 

 

Coulson thinks he hears a bit of pride in May’s voice, mirroring the pride he felt.

 

When S.H.I.E.L.D. had been reinstated (with great difficulty), Daisy had been made Director. Coulson and May both doubted the organization (which stayed mostly in the shadows for another year before going public once more) would have had such a successful comeback without Daisy.

 

 

Coulson makes his way back to the bedroom, climbing back into bed. It’s a foreign feeling, going to bed shortly after waking up, but one he's sure he'll get use to eventually. He gazes at May for a bit, leaving his coffee unattended.

 

They had been in an relationship for a month now, and it still felt new to him, and as precious as any collectable he had ever owned (not that May was some sort of trophy).

 

Every moment with May was as exciting as any of their most daring missions back in the day.

 

And last night, they had taken a big step forward in the relationship: spending the night in each other's bunk.

 

Admittedly, May had spend a few nights in his bunk, but she was often gone by sunrise. By comparison, Coulson had never spent the night in her room.

 

Until last night.

 

May had appeared at his door with a bottle of aged scotch with an offer to come to her bunk. When he had accepted, he had followed her to her bunk, glancing every which way, expecting some of the fellow agents to stare smugly in their direction, but no one paid attention to them.

 

The rest of the night had been a blur of too many drinks, a  _ Star Wars _ marathon. He remembers waking up in the middle night as the little spoon to May’s big spoon, before falling back to sleep.

 

“You're staring.” May says without looking up. Coulson cocks his head, pulling out the puppy eyes.

 

“Only because you're so mesmerizing.” He replies in an earnest tone. It's the dorkiest response he could've made, but also the most true. 

 

May turns to him with a warmth in her eyes that sends his heart skyrocketing up somewhere towards his Adam’s Apple.

 

“Not your best line,” May says not unkindly.

 

It's funny, Coulson thinks as she leaves forward to close the distance between them, it's just like old times and yet... everything's different, as well.

 

When she pulls away from the kiss, Coulson presses his forehead against hers, breathing a little too raggedly to be considered 'cool’, but May has a way of leaving him breathless.

 

“I love you,” Coulson blurts. It's the first time those words have escaped his mouth in a very long time, but this time there's a  _ rightness  _ to them. Like the last piece of a puzzle.

 

And the look on May’s face says that she feels it, too.

 

May smiles at him, “I know.”

 

Coulson’s face splits into a wide grin and he angles his head just so to capture her lips with his. Her hands loop around his neck, pulling him forward. 

 

Her tablet falls to the ground, forgotten, with a small  _ thump. _

 

_ This is right,  _ Coulson thinks. It's the last thing he can properly think for awhile.

 

His coffee is ice cold by the time he gets to it.

 

* * *

 

Three hours later they show up to their briefing. Director Johnson simply shakes her head, making the comment that she does not want to know what kept them.

 

May only responds with a coy smile, while Coulson doesn't respond at all, already replaying the morning in his head, while still gathering all the information from the briefing. He can multitask like that.

 

The mission is completed by nightfall, one of their shortest and easiest assignments in years (he wonders if Daisy did that on purpose) and Coulson dreads the flight back, expecting to have to return to his empty room, which does not sound so appealing after the morning spend in May’s.

 

But after their final meeting with Daisy, as he starts to head to his room, May calls after him. “Where are you going?”

 

Coulson falters in his step and turns to face her. “My bunk?”

 

He doesn't mean to make it sound like a question, nor does he intend to make it sound so terrible, but it does.

 

May doesn't even glance in the direction she was originally headed. She stalks to Coulson’s side. “So am I.”

 

Coulson stares at her confusedly, the pieces refusing to come together. He points behind her. “Your bunk is that way.”

 

May looks like she wants to smack him. She doesn't. “Yours,” she emphasizes, “is this way.”

 

_ Oh… _

 

“Right,” Coulson says cooly, like he came to that conclusion himself. “My bunk is this way. I knew that.”

 

May rolls her eyes and leads him down the corridor, Coulson trailing after her like a lost puppy. 

 

Somehow, he has a feeling that no matter what bunk he sleeps in, it wouldn't feel like home unless Melinda May was sleeping in the space next to him.

 

And, somehow, he has a feeling that if he told May that, she would have the same response as she had when he told her he loved her. 


End file.
